


Tin Roof Rusted

by Ailorian, quixoticquest



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alpha Beverly, Alpha Bill - Freeform, Alpha Mike, Alpha Richie, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, M/M, Omega Ben, Omega Eddie, Omega Stanley, Omega Verse, Post-Graduation, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Unplanned Pregnancy, doctor appointments, he's an idiot, richie's mouth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15639483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailorian/pseuds/Ailorian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/quixoticquest/pseuds/quixoticquest
Summary: Slow motion was not something Richie could really imagine happening in real life. Having been gripped before by things like unfettered awe and unrelenting terror, watching moments that ought to be stretched into infinity flicker away like a defeated candle, it just didn't seem possible anymore for there to be a singular event that could actually slow down time, let alone make it stop, even if the only point was a sadistic demonstration of perception and destiny itself.But slow motion was exactly where he was trapped now. The tickle of Eddie's breath, the brush of his skin against Richie's where he held them pressed together, the echo of words better suited for an anxiety driven fever dream resulting from broken condoms and storybook instinct antics about shared heats.---In which an idiot knocks up his boyfriend and they have to figure out how to be adults, and swindle his mother - hopefully in time for the bun to pop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Those Were the Best Days of My Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15261189) by [Ailorian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailorian/pseuds/Ailorian), [quixoticquest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quixoticquest/pseuds/quixoticquest). 



> As a heads up, this isn't really a run of the mill ABO story. I have a complicated relationship with omegaverse, as much as I enjoy it as an AU, and some of the problematic tropes that come with it have been taken out of the universe in which this story takes place. Just think of it as an ABO au with civil and sexual rights/equality, as far as the 90s go anyway. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"All set?" Richie asked simply, as Beverly climbed up into the truck beside him. She slapped her hand against her chest, which made him snort as he knocked the stick into gear and started forward. 

"Was your vagina full?" he quipped, and took a fist to the arm for it, though both of them laughed. 

The stop off at Eddie's was quick, and one had to wonder if Mrs. K was even aware that the slow rolling junker was stopping by at all. Maybe the sound of Alex Trebek on the TV had finally put her to sleep once and for all.   
  
"Did you bring a change of pants?" Richie asked, sounding a little more affronted than necessary as Eddie scooted in. "Who wears tight pants to a puffn’stuff? Your ass isn't allowed to look that good when I'm driving."

"Listen, Bill isn't the only one who's never smoked," Eddie griped in that feisty way of his (as if it were relevant), leaning across Beverly to kiss Richie on the cheek and pull the door closed behind him. "Don't worry, my ass will be sitting, so you won't have to look at it."

"That's not better, who told you that was better?" Richie kicked into a higher gear as soon as he rolled past the stop sign on Eddie’s street enough to (check for cruisers and) call it a reasonable pause. The drive out to the Barrens never too long.   
  
Rumbling to a stop a few feet inside a tree line, Richie lifted off the seat - a necessary measure to get the parking break down - and jumped down just in time for Mike to appear, toting a picnic basket of all things. Careful about how he grabbed his hoodie, the alpha slapped the bench seat a couple times to get the other two moving before slamming the door. Nothing better than being loud in the dark where no one could hear.   
  
"We waiting here or down the hill?" Richie asked, hand in Eddie's back pocket as soon as he was close enough to manage. 

"Down the hill, please? We look too suspicious," Eddie answered before anyone else could, swiveling his gaze back and forth between road and treeline.

"Relax, we won't get caught," Beverly assured him, stoner hubris ringing proud and true. "I've been smoking in the school for years, no one cares."

"Well I care!" Eddie stated, dragging Richie with them toward the slope of the hill.   
  
“Hang on, my hand’s still trapped on your butt!” Richie winced dramatically in his escape of the denim vise, grabbing his backpack from its spot in the truck bed and then jogging to catch up since Eddie wasn't waiting to take cover. The familiar hill was easy to navigate even in the dark, and it wasn't long before they were arguing newspaper versus firewood while Richie dug for matches.   
  
The other three arrived in a cluster, toting a whole comforter full of choice drinks and tasty cakes, collected since the casual suggestion for one last chance to smoke together had evolved into actual plans. By the time the fire really caught, the blanket had been spread out and a pipe packed for the initiation.   
  
"Who wants greens?" Richie asked with a grin, the pipe in his teeth before Beverly plucked it free to rescue him from his multitasking.   
  
"Greens?" Eddie repeated, eyes narrowing in confusion, sat beside him. "Is that different from the regular stuff? Or do you mean something else."   
  
"It means first hit," Beverly answered helpfully, tipping the pipe up to see, though with the fire as their only light already, there wasn't much to look at.    
  
"There's no hint of shit-coated cock, yet," Richie added in a matter of fact tone, rifling through his pockets for the Bic, flicking it twice before tossing it in the air like a coin, caught in one palm and slapped down onto the other arm.   
  
"You familiar with that?" Stan asked from across the fire, sounding more concerned than disgusted.   
  
"Wouldn't you like to know," the trashmouth mumbled, huffing a laugh. "Bev's dude says it's gravy anyway but I prefer the taste of good ol' fashioned Chef Boy Ed-dee."   
  
"So soap and sunscreen only," Ben chuckled into the palm of his hand.   
  
"Wouldn't you like to know!" Eddie shot out in reply, and everyone had a good laugh for a little while.   


With the fire crackling and the rest of the circle acting like a bunch of scaredy cats, there wasn't much left to do but take initiative. Richie’d be damned if he went the summer, their last summer, without seeing Eddie’s pretty little lips wrapped around his own pipe.

“C’mon, Eds, first hits the best,” the alpha coaxed. “Every other one just isn’t as good. I’m tryna be a good boyfriend here.”

Maybe he should have expected this all along, but Eddie grimaced, leaning away with the rise of his hands. “Richie, I really don’t think I should.”

“Aw, why’d you even come then?”

“I dunno, to spend time with my friends maybe?”

Huffing, Richie passed the pipe along, into Mike’s trusty hands when he was the first to reach for it. “You’re killin’ me Eds. Now I’ll never get to see you high. I’ll die with my bucket list unfulfilled.”

“No one’s dying,” Eddie insisted, settling against Richie’s shoulder, just to butter him up and get him to shut up probably. “Next time. I promise.”

Easy for him to say. When exactly was next time supposed to be?

Watching the pipe go around the circle was like witnessing a ceremony, solemn for its concentration, mindful for its uncertainty, hesitance, and resolve. Richie watched the processes flit across his friends' faces, bathed in firelight. Smiles stretching from cocky and confident to small and resigned, eyes tinted by the thick dark night and their tiny pinpoint of flickering chemical reaction.   


Eddie's head on his shoulder, hand on his chest, knees tucked against his thigh. Bev's shoes just barely kicking the sole of his where his legs were folded together, stretched out to reach the pillow of Ben's lap - practically shared with Bill on the far side. The alpha almost wished they could all sit up and hold hands.

"Did you die, Staniel?" Richie asked, minutes after the coughing had quieted and the noise around them reduced to crickets and crackling embers. God give them something else to talk about. Something more to stretch the evening.

"Not yet," came Stan's dry reply, bent up against Mike's sturdy form - not dying, after all. It sure sounded like he had been dying a while ago.

The murmur of mellow conversation floated around him, and for once Richie was more subject to it than apart of it, scared to ruin the moment, the last moment, they would all be together like this. Even if most of them were toked off their asses. But eventually, the mounting momentum in his chest was too much to ignore, and he all but interrupted whatever frivolous chatter had developed. 

"I have an announcement," the trashmouth stated finally, a little cinematic as he lifted his hands over his bowed head. "The truck is in full working order, passed inspection by a professional government agent and my dad. It's even registered now."

"It wasn't before?" Ben asked, sounding terrified by the notion, despite having not even set foot in the thing this summer.

"Yeah, so, I'm headin' out," Richie tacked on, as if he could slide the shoe drop in like an afterthought, his arms falling into his lap with an excited shrug - the smile that twisted his lips burned like a brand. "Aimin' for New York City, then maybe Chicago. See where the interstate takes me."

"The American dream," Bill said solemnly from across the circle. "Sounds like a lot of gas money."

"I can't blame you, though," Mike said. "Once everyone else is gone, it'll be pretty boring around here anyway.” 

Richie’s tongue lodged in his throat, stuck around the  _ sorry _ he couldn’t quite bring himself to say for abandoning Mike to this awful place, alone.

“When are you leaving?" Beverly asked.

"Couple o’ days. Think I'm aiming for Saturday," Richie answered, shrugging again - only to feel Eddie to tense against him. "Figure less traffic since everyone will be going out towards the country instead of toward the city for work. Dad says mid-morning is best because the commuters are out of the way and everyone else is late enough for something to rush things along. Once I get the cap on the bed, I won't even have to worry about hotels and shit, you know, just bundle up for the night.”

How many times in his life had he actually hoped for a shut up or a beep beep because his mouth was plowing ahead without him? Not many, Richie thought. Maybe two, and that was when he had enough self-awareness to feel a hint of regret over words that had actually caused harm.

“And, I got graduation money comin' out the ass. I guess the distant cousins are impressed I made it or something. So, it'll be a little bit before I start selling my body to eat.” He laughed around the aching, sinking sensation in his chest. It was impossible to gauge Eddie’s reaction from this angle.

Until he spoke, anyway. And it wasn’t what Richie expected.

“Yeah right,” Eddie griped.

"I think he's serious, Eddie," Stan said, almost disbelieving.

"He's never serious!' the omega retorted. "All you need is a big word like 'commuter' to know it's bullshit."   
  
"I can use big words too, Eds" Richie mentioned, lifting a hand to rub Eddie’s hair in all different directions. "If I wait too much longer, the college kids will take all the jobs and parking spots. Gotta get myself out there before all this-” he continued, gesturing dramatically toward his whole self, "is lost to the ages. Don't wanna be Tony Soprano, catching my first job in my fifties. Gotta get in while I'm still pretty."   


It was getting hard not to spout of his list of reasons that didn't involve choking back tears screaming at his friends about abandoning him. The same way, some quiet voice mentioned, that he was abandoning Mike - but then Mike had a farm full of coworkers and sheep to hang out with all year, and Richie could barely get his dad to trade him evening mechanical help for house chores these days.    
  
Derry was tired of him, and he was tired of it, and (almost) everyone worth staying for was about to be gone just the same as him so what could they even say? Stop? Don't go? Take me with you? 

If only. 

Not a damn thing could keep Richie here. Not even the memory of Eddie, since he sure as hell couldn’t stay for the actual thing when it was hundreds of miles away.   


"That is...the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Eddie spat. "What are you, retarded? There's no reason for you to go until after we do."

Richie's smile faltered as his hand was knocked away, the warm body pressed against him suddenly replaced by the billow of cool air, and then Eddie was on his feet, staring down at all of them (which was really something, considering his height, comparatively) while the trashmouth folded his hands into his lap, head tipped back to keep his gaze through the prescription lenses.    
  
"Aren't you guys annoyed about this?!" Eddie demanded, pacing back and forth in the little space allotted to him.   
  
"It's n-not like we're not doing the same thing, Eddie," Bill managed, when no one else spoke, shrugging uselessly.   
  
"That's different! At least we got to know months in advance!"

This dope wasn't really doing the chill vibe thing Richie had been hoping for, though it certainly kept his rushing thoughts from solidifying into anything more tangible than a heavy storm cloud waiting to cry. He should have expected as much when Eddie refused the pipe, but even that wasn’t enough to stave his eventual departure enough to negate the announcement.

"Yeah," Richie murmured then. "Gotta love having months." Of dread, and mourning, and the constant knowledge that every passing moment cut their time together just a little shorter. "Sorry for the short notice," he added in a deadpan that could put Stanley to shame.    
  
"Aw Eds, what’s it matter anyway? You'll be outta here before you have a chance to miss me anyway."    


"Shut up!" Eddie snapped, gritting his teeth as he planted his feet in the grass. "Don't  _ Aw Eds _ me, you, you-!" He swallowed, and shook his head. Richie could only imagine the insult that might have come out of his mouth. He’d never know if it would hurt or not. The silence hurt all by itself.

Maybe Richie thought making it a group activity would prevent something like this - not because Eddie was worried all that much about emoting in front of their friends, but just maybe because sharing feelings (pain, disappointment, frustration, anger) was a lot easier than trying to hold it together alone. If only because it was distributed, understood. Attempts to make a more easily dismissed spectacle of himself (instead of anyone else) had clearly failed.

Eddie tried to school himself, eyes screwed shut, puffing out short breaths. "You can't just cut our summer short, Richie. We can talk about this later. We are  _ gonna  _ talk about it later. I'd rather not ruin my one of the last times we're all together calling out your shitty impulses."

Watching him clamp down so hard on anything resembling an outburst nearly broke Richie’s heart all on its own. As painful as being faced with the full force of Eddie's outrage threatened to be, this was definitely worse. If pushed, the alpha might admit a tangible fear of what was to come, especially if the omega got him alone. 

Shoving to his feet, Richie took hold of Eddie's arms - knowing he deserved a swing if it came for him - just long enough to get his own around the smaller brunet's shoulders, clutching them together as his head bent, cheek to cheek.   
  
"Come on, Eds, you can let it out. Nothing these guys haven't seen before." It was probably cowardly, preferring an audience to what could easily be his end. "Besides, campfire tokes are for feelings. You're safe here."

With Eddie’s chin digging into his shoulder, arms cinched around the narrow waist, there was little Richie could do but wait. Wait for Eddie to tilt forward, leaning on his tiptoes, inhaling on a preparatory breath. If he was gearing up for an insult, Richie was sure he deserved it. If he was gearing up for an apology or a confession, he’d take that too.

"I'm pregnant," Eddie said, loud enough to disqualify a whisper, and sure as shit loud enough for everyone to hear.

Slow motion was not something Richie could really imagine happening in real life. Having been gripped before by things like unfettered awe and unrelenting terror, watching moments that ought to be stretched into infinity flicker away like a defeated candle, it just didn't seem possible anymore for there to be a singular event that could actually slow down time, let alone make it stop, even if the only point was a sadistic demonstration of perception and destiny itself.    
  
But slow motion was exactly where he was trapped now. The tickle of Eddie's breath, the brush of his skin against Richie's where he held them pressed together, the echo of words better suited for an anxiety driven fever dream resulting from broken condoms and storybook instinct antics about shared heats.    
  
_ Impossible! _ was as close as Richie got to a first thought - they had never shared a heat anyway! Had they? Those things were supposed to be really obvious, and there was no pretending Mrs. K would let her omega son out of her sight if even the calendar suggested he was in such a state.    
  
Then again, Eddie wasn't exactly the type to be throwing out life changing excuses (right?), even if it did seem like a fairly convenient desperate attempt to change the alpha's mind. Sure, the little brunet lied through his teeth like a champ when it came to protecting his friends or keeping his mom off his back, but he wouldn't lie to Richie. Not about this. Even tonight, after the decision he had made. 

"You were saying?" Eddie bit out quietly against Richie's ear, shoving him away a second later. The alpha startled backwards with the bitter words, sharp enough to cut him like a butterfly blade dragged along his jawline. He stumbled back a step or two before finding something akin to balance, narrowly avoiding crushing Beverly’s hand, and stepping in the fire. It's possible he was simply too high for this situation, unable to process the words, let alone their meaning.    
  
Good excuse as any not to say anything - if he could choose his fucking words - but then, Richie couldn't exactly boast a filter, could he?    
  
"Is it mine?" he heard himself say, unsure whether it sounded hopeful, frightened, or something else entirely.

Eddie stared at him, wide-eyed and angry. Very briefly, Richie wondered if the omega might actually kill him.

" _ Yes! _ " Eddie shrieked incredulously, unable to do much but gape in the moment that followed his cry. It didn't take a genius to know that was a dumb question, and a bad one - even if Richie had the balls to say  _ ha-ha _ and dodge anything resembling responsibility for the words. He didn't think there was any room for responsibility dodging now. Not tonight, in this moment, after this. Not with fat tears dripping down to Eddie’s nose in the firelight.  
  
Bill and Beverly moved, hurrying to grab hold of Eddie before he did any damage, and part of Richie thought he ought to be grateful. Even if their gentle but firm grasps weren't designed to  _ protect  _ him from the summer storm that was Eddie Kaspbrak, just keep him from doing something he might regret.   
  
The actual sensation that lanced through Richie like an electrical shock was dread - a twisting and dangerous instinct unfurling like the green eyed monster it was, with two capable alphas wrapped around his omega boyfriend.   
  
" _ You're _ the one bragging about owning my V-card and all that bullshit!" Eddie went on, hollering at the top of his lungs. Lucky no one but then came out here this late. "And guess what, dickhead, I really wish it wasn't yours!" 

Those words might have been as painful as an actual hand across the face, or shit, even an elbow to the guts and groin. In that moment, though, Richie couldn't even pretend he deserved better. There was no fighting the wet clouding his eyes, burning behind his lenses, turned away from the heat of the fire. 

And yet, in all of that, the alpha found an inkling of a bright side. The miracle he had been begging for (though he had never meant for this kind of miracle).   
  
"Well, shit, Eds," Richie murmured thickly, voice heavier with relief than anything. "Now you definitely have to take me with you."

There was no way he wasn't messing up every moment of this - had been since before whatever this was came to be. Richie couldn't decide if he was even relieved to have been told tonight, especially with his bags packed and the truck stocked as much as anyone with access to a parent’s pantry and a coupon enthusiast mother could manage. All his preparations, all for naught, and all because of two fucking words.

"Are you kidding?" Eddie demanded, pushing away from Bev and Bill beside him.  _ They  _ probably would have taken this so much better, in Richie’s shoes. "I don't even think I can  _ go  _ to school now, Richie! Not for a full year, anyway. And when my mom finds out?" Eddie laughed, a harsh sound that held no glee whatsoever. "Then you can count on never seeing me again."

What could he do now? Run? That had been the plan, right? And why shouldn't he, if he was the fucking last person in the world Eddie would ever want to procreate with, let alone spend the rest of his life? At what point was Richie just being a selfish burden or a trap?   
  
Probably at the point where he stuffed an offspring inside the man of his fucking dreams and fucked off to the far coast.    
  
"That's not gonna happen," Richie decided resolutely - if he could just manage that for now. "I don't care what we have to do. It just isn't." Having something to do with his life while everyone who ever mattered was off having something to do with their lives was one thing, but no fucking way was he going to let Sonia Kaspbrak keep him from Eddie.    
  
Peripherally - and then painfully - aware of the stunned to silence audience that was their entire social circle, Richie moved forward again. More than aware of the risk to various sensitive parts of his own human body as he got within arms (and legs) reach, he didn't hesitate in taking Eddie's shoulders again. For fuck's sake, it took actual effort not to just drape himself over the omega, replacing the other lingering alpha scents with his own.    
  
"I'm sorry, Eds," he murmured finally, the words whisper soft as they came out of an already constricting throat. "You were right, I’m sorry. Let's go somewhere. Please?"

The fist to the balls didn’t come. Or, the knee, or foot, or whatever. Eddie just sagged against him, and Richie let out a quiet sigh of relief - hoping, idly, that it wouldn't be noticed right away. His hands slid up and down as comfortingly as he knew how for just a moment before the dark head lifted from his chest, eyes red and puffy. Fuck, he hadn’t even smoked (and now it made sense why).

"We're going home," Eddie announced, pulling away just to grab Richie’s hand and drag him back to the treeline. "See you guys later."

That had been Richie’s hope, and yet, he found himself glancing uncertainly at the circle of their friends, torn on whether he was sorry for the abrupt end, or truly frightened of what was to come. None of them looked keen on stopping them anyway, and Richie couldn't blame them.   
  
Besides, he wanted to be alone with Eddie right now. Needed it. And being dragged toward the treeline was only intimidating when the omega was angry at him. He was pretty sure that ship had sailed with the defeated sag of small shoulders.    
  
As they drew closer to his truck, Richie retrieved the keys from his pocket, still feeling that familiar form of sluggish despite the sobering conversation. "My mom's probably asleep," Eddie mentioned, much quieter now. "She wasn't feeling that great today."

When he couldn’t resist the urge any longer, the alpha pressed forward - still clasped in one of Eddie’s hands - and half-pinned the shorter brunet to the side of his car. Nothing Eddie couldn't escape, but just enough to have them flush together while they were still standing.    
  
His head dipped, face snuggling into the crook of shoulder and throat - where his face belonged, as far as Richie was concerned. Pressed against soft, warm skin and surrounded by Eddie's scent.    
  
"You really don't want it to be mine?" Richie asked softly, more concentrated on that single detail than he probably deserved to be. But with thoughts of the changing future swirling around him like a tornado in the making, he almost needed it first.

"I don't want it to be anyone's, Richie," Eddie mumbled, lifting his free arm to cinch around Richie’s neck. "I don't want to be pregnant. This shouldn't be happening, with us, now."   
  
Much as he wanted to, Richie couldn't pretend the answer made him feel better, though it certainly crossed his mind that it wasn't meant to, or required. Eddie sure as fuck didn't owe him the comfort to what amounted to a bruised ego. Not wanting to be pregnant at all felt a little different - in a way that made it not about Richie at all (which, if he thought about it, ought to be the way, regardless).   
  
"We're just kids," Eddie muttered, almost disbelieving as he looked up at the alpha in the little dark space they had to themselves. "Stupid kids. Who couldn't get through the summer without a fucking accident."

"Literally," Richie murmured instead, a wry note to his voice as he indulged the expletives - contributing to the sentence by nothing but placement. A fucking accident.   
  
"Come on," he nudged quietly, unlocking the door finally and letting Eddie in first. The other door worked fine, but it wasn't worth it to walk around just then - even with their hands no longer clamped together. That didn't stop Richie from slipping his hand through Eddie's again after he got the truck started. Hell, he could shift like this no problem, even after a couple puffs off the pipe.   
  
"Your place then?" he asked, just in case, and tried to sound entirely calm. One of them had to be, right? Not that Eddie was doing a bad job so far. Maybe Richie was just trying to convince the butterflies spinning around his gut to chill.

Eddie nodded, and as they pulled away from the woods surrounding the Barrens, Richie decided that was just where he wanted to go. The way was never long, walking or biking distance honestly, but there was a vehicle so might as well use it.   
  
When Eddie disappeared up the steps to his mother's house, Richie found himself gripped with that last chance moment - his entire existence suddenly convinced that if he was going to make an escape it had to happen right this minute. The sensation stuck with him for as long as it took to park the pickup a half lot away, tucked in on the far side of those high shrubberies that just barely hid them from any line of sight Mrs. K had from any of the windows in the house. For a woman who only went as far as her car and the mailbox, she could be very keen.   
  
Turning the truck off, Richie blew a slow, cleansing breath into the windshield, and then climbed out. Trashmouth Tozier was a lot of things but he wasn't stupid enough to spend half a year begging the universe for a reason to stay, only to turn away at the first sign of one. Even if it wasn't what he expected.    
  
Climbing that familiar tree was a lot harder while high, but Richie made it to the window before Eddie had time to pop his head out, offering what help he could. “Be quiet, okay?”

"Yes, dear," Richie whispered in response, a tilted grin tipping across his lips as he kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his hoodie. Gathering the omega up against him for a hello kiss the moment he made it through the window was almost reflexive these days (as if they had been apart for all that long - the whole ordeal took five minutes at most) and Richie couldn't quite resist it now. Until Eddie pushed him away, it didn't need to feel entirely inappropriate.   
  
"You wanna whisper about it or should we avoid the topic until it's safe to yell?" he asked, teasing a bit (and yet totally sincere, if it was to be taken seriously) as they settled on Eddie's bed. Jeans threatened to become uncomfortable, but Richie had slept fully dressed before, and there was something about the heavy topics of the evening that made stripping down for comfort feel a little lewd - and not in a fun way (which he had thought was impossible). Maybe his guilt cup runneth over, leaving him looking for excuses for the sensation curdling in his gut. At least Eddie was pressed against him now, something resembling calm.

"I've known for about a week," Eddie said as his answer, angled toward Richie so they could discuss in the tiny space between them, like it was sacred. God, it really wasn't. "I wasn't feeling that great for a couple days, and you know I check every possible option. Usually it's nothing, but...Well, this time it wasn’t.”   


A week wasn't that long, though Richie found himself wondering how he hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had, and was just stupid enough not to think that the strengthening of the omega's scent had a biological cause and not just his dumb ass becoming more and more obsessed with someone who was about to fuck off without him for months.  
  
"I took two tests, so I'm pretty sure," Eddie continued, running his antsy fingers up the curve of Richie's waist. "In the bathroom at K-Mart, so my mom wouldn’t know. They were both positive and I’m willing to trust that, since I can’t really go see a doctor right now. But I should. See a doctor, I mean. But I don't know how to do that without my mom finding out, and I can't really do anything before school starts. It's gonna be such a shit show."

The only thing that Richie knew about doctors was that his mother talked to them for him and it was easier to go when you had insurance. Considering he hadn't needed more than a yearly check up since the roller skating accident of '91, even that was a rare visit.   
  
The only thing that Richie knew about insurance was that his parents had to take him off theirs this year, and had been shoving paperwork at him for months - a fact which hadn't stopped his mom from getting him his own policy, since after all, she was the doctor-talker.   
  
The fact that stood stark against his thoughts as not only relevant but important, though, was the fact that bonding Eddie to himself in that permanent physical and allegedly psychic way that alphas and omegas tended to do would make Eddie his responsibility in all things legal and financial - which Richie was pretty sure included insurance coverage and emergency contacts.    
  
Verbalizing any of those thoughts became a bit impossible when his saliva turned to glue in his mouth. Whether that was because he didn't want to be kicked between the thighs at the mention or because he didn't want questions like "be mine forever?" to be a result of  _ this _ , there was just one bottom line:   
  
Eddie deserved better.

“Do you think you might want to...” Richie tried, vying for different options - the specific one that came to mind not feeling very good, even if it was applicable to their situation. “You know. Abort mission?” Probably the worst way he could have said anything, ever.

“No,” Eddie answered, faster than Richie thought he would. “I mean, maybe I should. But I can’t. I don’t think I could make myself, if I tried. I’ve had enough invasive doctor visits to last a lifetime.”

All fair points, Richie conceded to himself uselessly, nodding for no reason. As long as that alternative had been thought up and pushed out of the way, he didn’t need to lend much more thought to it. Didn’t want to, anyway, but this wasn’t really about what he wanted anymore.   
  
"How much does your insurance tell your mom when you go to the doctor?" Richie asked softly, when they were back on track, trying to work through the remaining barriers like a word problem instead. "She can't drive across the state for every time you have a rash, right? Maybe?"

"You've met my mom," Eddie said as his face screwed up - which was fair. Wincing a bit, Richie tried not to imagine what would happen to him if he was within city limits when Mrs. K found out about the actual cause of Eddie's first doctor's appointment away from home. Advertisements for free or low cost clinics flicked through his thoughts, leaving him to wonder if they could even find one, let alone where the omega was going for school. Canceling college plans would be more of a give-away than anything, after all, right? 

"She might call them to ask? I don't know." Eddie huffed, shifting a little to lie on his back. "I'm pretty sure there's no conceivable way for me to be getting pregnancy checkups and like, ultrasounds without my mom finding out, if I'm on her insurance. That's a lot to hide. And I'm not sure it's worth the risk."

"Yeah," Richie murmured, because he didn't know what else to say. With Eddie spelling it out, at least he could excuse more extreme suggestions with the nature of the conversation. The alpha found himself rolling onto his side, arm going across his stomach before remembering what was in there now and he shifted his arm higher, resting on ribs instead.

"You don't have to," Eddie told him quietly, after a thoughtful moment, "but maybe if we pool our savings, we won't need insurance. Maybe that could get us to Christmas. How many doctor's appointments does a pregnant omega go to anyway?"

"I have a little over a grand," Richie mentioned, caught up for a moment in the expanding consequences (not all of them bad, really). Finding a place to live that wasn't with their parents (or in Derry at all, frankly. Beverly might prefer to run to something but Richie was just set on getting the fuck out) or on campus seemed pretty important. It was probably the only way to guarantee that Sonia didn't waltz in with her copy keys and just kidnap Eddie while they were sleeping.    
  
Unless Eddie didn't want to stay with him at all.    
  
"And I can get a job. I was planning on grabbing some crap food flinging slots on my way cross the states anyway. They can't be that hard to find. All roads lead to McDonald’s."

With all his logical conversation and helpful quips, Richie was surprising himself tonight. Maybe it took getting stoned for his overactive mind to calm down, let him think through his words. Who said weed was bad for you anyway?

"Richie, I'm sorry," Eddie whispered all of a sudden. Of all the answers Richie was anticipating, this was not one of them. It wasn’t even an answer, really. His brow pinched in confusion, wondering what he had said that could possibly sound like it warranted an apology. Did he sound upset? Maybe he wasn't doing that calm sincere thing as well as he thought. His grip shifted closer around the omega's ribs, cinching them together like he needed an excuse to be pressed flush.

"That this is the reason you'd be staying behind,” Eddie tacked on. “I know you want out. I do too." 

Rather than feel consoled, Richie felt more like he had been punched in the sternum by the Hulk. Part of him seemed to swell up like a suddenly boiling pot of water, half startled terror and half incredulous outrage at the suggestion. Maybe only because Richie had already crossed that line drawn in the sand between going and staying. Eddie couldn't send him off after all this!   
  
"If you really, really,  _ really _ want to go, I'll let you. As long as you came back sometimes. I mean, I can't stop you. But I have a lot of support here, in the others. And we're not exactly fit for this, y’know?"

"Nah," Richie mumbled after a pregnant pause (HA!). "I bet we could get a cheap little place somewhere near your school." Was the subject change too much? "Might have to outsource a little for a job though, too many college students to compete with, though at least I can offer full time. They won't be able to resist me."

Wide-eyed in the adjusted dark, Eddie stared at him, as if what Richie suggested had been outlandish. Wasn’t like he was suggesting colonizing Mars. Just a little place. Itty bitty.

"You want to live together?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Richie answered on a short laugh, wondering why that was so surprising - before he remembered, they had only been with each other  _ this _ way since the beginning of the summer. Years of their lives had already been spent together, and the alpha couldn't pretend that they didn't account for something of his confidence. Though, maybe he should have phrased it more like a question. Richie wasn't too keen on unexpected circumstances forcing their lives forward, and enough of it seemed inevitable enough to leave up to an approaching moment.    
  
Problems for future-Richie, the tall brunet mused silently, and snuggled closer to the omega with another absent laugh.

"I mean, that would probably be ideal," Eddie conceded, staring into middle space while he considered the proposition. "If we saved up, and did it quietly. All assuming my mom never finds out. In which case, it might be better not to have any connection to school after a certain point, at all."

"Not like your mom can see my accounts, and mine won't flip her lid if I tell her what I'm planning. Fuck, she'll probably be relieved I'm not vanishing in a cloud of smoke after all. She might even help us. Pretty sure she's written off chances of normal progression of grandchildren so you'll probably make her day, birthday, Christmas and year and I bet we could convince her not to tell Sonia." Veering that far off topic brought Richie back to mind, his eyes heavier than he thought as he blinked them open and stretched his legs a bit. The allure of sleep - especially in the comfort of a soft bed with Eddie in his grip and surrounded by the sweet scent of his (pregnant) omega (not to mention the soft padding of a baked mind) - was inordinately powerful, but he wasn't about to leave Eddie hanging.   
  
"You shouldn't have to quit school though," he mumbled, trying to find his way back to what they were talking about. "If you want to go, I mean."

Any and all topics got lost under the pleased smile that pinched Richie’s cheeks, as Eddie turned more squarely to face him. The press of bony arms and soft hands against his chest had his grip tightening further, a leg slipping between the omega's knees to keep from knocking their joints together. Sometimes, it really astounded him how well they fit together, a shift of cloth and skin always leading to deeper comfort. Squeezed out of the crook of Eddie's shoulder by the change, though, Richie tucked the shorter brunet under his chin, cheek turning to bury his nose in soft hair instead. 

"Who knows," Eddie muttered, shrugging as best he could against his comforter. "I might end up hating school. I've never been very smart, and I can't sit still for very long..."

"You're very smart," Richie argued quietly, more peevishly contrary than actually concerned about his boyfriend's self image.

Eddie went off on another tangent, effectively proving just how smart he really was. "Let's start small. I can't think about all this right now, we don't have to. I'm leaving too soon to do much of anything. But, if we just, you know, do what we need to, for now. Save our money, this semester, with the intention of getting an apartment in the winter. And save for doctors and stuff too. And then if you could, maybe, come with me? When I have to go to them?”   
  
"Moving in winter is gonna suck," Richie mumbled eventually, figuring it was easier to offer the thoughts as they came, rather than any sort of predetermined order - just like difficult homework. "But we can do it. You'll only be - " Lifting his hand, he counted off the months on his fingers, trying to remember how long it took to cook a baby - not exactly his concern most days. "Five months? Plus the others will help us, if they're here. Not like we got that much shit anyway."    
  
Before he could get distracted about where and when to buy a couch, Richie huffed a breath, almost failing to realize he had been asked a question at the end of it all.    
  
"I can come to appointments," he confirmed, wondering what in the world could ever keep him anyway. Maybe the apocalypse, but Richie had a feeling he could give it a run for its money. "Augusta isn't that far. Just let me know when and where."

“You could also come just to visit,” Eddie offered. “I mean, as long as you’re here. We’re still boyfriends. At least that doesn’t change.”

Thank god it didn’t - even if it seemed weird, almost too small in the face of their current dilemma. But Richie couldn’t think about that right now. Eddie was satisfied, and sleep called him like a lover, almost as enticing as the one circled in his arms.

He could only hope that good ol’ trusty future-Richie, when he was sober and alert, could handle this nearly as well as present-Richie. Knowing himself, the answer probably fell somewhere around  _ maybe _ .


	2. Chapter 2

Moving day sucked. Bill and Ben had already packed their cars to bursting and left for their respective universities, but being the third to go didn’t make the departure any easier on Eddie. Even the constant, incessant _are you okay_ s since his outburst at the Barrens and the frustration that came with them couldn’t stop the sinking feeling of how much he was going to miss his friends. 

Especially Richie, who deserved so much more than this crappy hand. It only got worse when Sonia’s station wagon finally pulled out of their driveway, taking Eddie with it. Leaving Richie in the dust when he had been so desperate to kick it up himself.

Even then, Eddie couldn’t deny the quiet relief, that his boyfriend wouldn’t be thousands of miles away. It might have taken one hell of an accident, but he was grateful all the same (though he had to wonder if he’d feel the same way as the nine months carried on).  
  
At least school was okay, when it wasn't lecture halls packed with two hundred kids and professors calling him out for lack of participation. Everyone was nice (mostly), and Eddie liked his chemistry class by virtue of the simple fact that the instructor was super lenient. At the end of the day, it was all loads better than the oncoming train full of pregnancy-related grief that autumn had in store for him.   
  
On top of the morning, noon,  _ and  _ night sickness, Eddie grew tired and cranky, which wasn't different from usual, really - but depending on the day, it could be a hundred times better, or a hundred times worse. With hormones running rampant through his brain at any given moment, he couldn’t be expected to rein in his mouth  _ every  _ time an idiot crossed his path. Eddie had already had an RA meeting for snapping at one of his floormates for gunking up the communal microwave (a perfectly good reason to snap, if you asked him, pregnant or not), and if anything was going to prevent him from lashing out, it was the potential for another one of those god awful awkward encounters. 

Eddie’s temper wasn’t the only thing that grew in the passing weeks. He couldn't tell exactly when he began to gain weight, only that one day he looked in the mirror and it was like he had never lost his baby fat in high school. Thank god it was sweater weather, the summer long gone, otherwise Eddie didn't know how he would have hid the slow growing Bump™ that stretched out his favorite polos just enough to cause him stress, even if no one else could tell. His classmates probably thought he had packed on the dreaded Freshman Fifteen a little earlier than most.   
  
By far, the absolute best, most gratifying parts of the semester were when he saw Richie, even if it was just for doctor's appointments. The omega couldn't believe how much he missed him the rest of the time, even more than Bill or Mike (which Eddie didn’t think could be possible). If those heart-wrenching, lonely feelings felt more intense than they would have under normal circumstances, Eddie one hundred percent blamed the dumb fetus that seemed to take pleasure in making his life extra hard.

When he couldn’t see Richie, calling him on the phone was a close second, even when he got yelled at for hogging the landline on the floor by irritated floormates. They were just jealous, Eddie decided, that their dumb relationships hadn’t lasted past September. Granted, there were some undesirable circumstances to his own, but still.

“I had an idea!” Richie said one time, close enough to his living room that Eddie could hear the newest  _ Fresh Prince  _ playing in the background. “So that your roommates and stuff don’t know you’re, y’know. P-word. And in case Sonia takes up wiretapping as a hobby in the near future.”

“Lay it on me,” Eddie declared (a little quietly, because he was actually pretty nervous about anyone finding out he got knocked up right before school).

“We use a code,” Richie explained. “A code I thought up all by myself. You’re gonna think I’m so smart and cool, Eds. More than you already do. Can you guess what it is?”

Before Eddie could even begin to fathom a single notion as to what Richie might have concocted this time, the alpha started making noises, crackling and fuzzy across the phone.  _ Dun-dun-dun _ s that rose and fell at some confusing rate. It took Eddie a little bit, but it was impossible not to recognize the opening track to  _ Star Wars _ .

“You’re R2-D2, a service droid tasked with the harrowing mission of carrying and delivering the  _ Death Star Plans  _ \- the fetus - to the rebel base - the hospital, eventually,” Richie proclaimed in his best trailer announcer voice (not to be confused with his radio announcer voice). “I’m Luke Skywalker, and it’s my job to get you from point A to point B safely in a dangerous galaxy. Although I guess I could also be Leia since I put the Death Star plans  _ in  _ you, but I’d rather be Luke.”

“Wow,” Eddie murmured, trying not to let his grin seep into his voice too much. As if giving Richie any indication that he was amused or pleased was tantamount to defeat. “You thought that up all by yourself.”

“Well, George Lucas provided the basis. I just took advantage of it.”

“Who’s my mom?”

“Probably Vader,” Richie suggested, “even though Jabba’s way more fitting, but we’re at the mercy of continuity.”   
  
Half a week of grueling midterms sloughed by at the speed of dirt, with two more classes to go, because some professors had to wait until the last minute. The staccato honk from a busted up Ford reached Eddie’s ears from his third story single where he had been trying to scratch out a coherent thesis for his Comp 101 paper for about fifteen minutes. He shot up from his desk to look out the window, just to make sure it wasn’t some  _ other _ busted up Ford wreaking havoc across campus. 

As fast as his legs could carry him, Eddie hurried out of his dorm room, past alarmed bystanders, taking the steps two at a time before bursting out of the lobby door - probably faster than his doctor would have liked, or recommended.

The truck was idling and Richie, dressed in his weeks-old Kinko’s uniform, hopped out by the time Eddie reached the sidewalk, launching himself into his boyfriend’s open arms as carefully as he allowed (which after almost a month, wasn’t very careful at all). Richie caught him with just as much gusto, even as he buckled under Eddie’s exuberance. At least the fetus wasn’t big enough to get hurt bad yet.

"Hey, Eds. How's my favorite baby daddy today?" Voice quiet and fond, Richie rubbed his face into Eddie’s hair, dislodging his careful part. A second later, he bent to press their lips together, while the omega did his best to hold them as close together as he could, desperate for the tangible solidity. Without much remorse, he inhaled deeply; Richie’s scent was pretty nice, when it wasn’t smothered by old clothes and deodorant-in-lieu-of-shower.   
  
Before they could get too riled up before the appointment, Eddie slid back and away so that his palms landed on his boyfriend's shoulders. There would be plenty of time after. Lucky for them both, Sonia Kasprak didn't trust other boys who could have potentially been Eddie's roommate, and broke bank to get her son a nice, private single. 

"Ready to let the wizard get all up in your jib-jabs?” Richie asked excitedly. “Summon up some gurgling? Did you stop puking yet? Cuz I'm thinking cheeseburgers before we go. I'm  _ starving _ ."   
  
"I'm feeling kinda better," Eddie answered, neglecting to mention that the very thought of a soggy bun plastered with falling sesame seeds was enough to curdle his stomach, if he thought too hard about it. "Oh my fucking god, please take this off. My doctor already thinks we're weirdos." Lifting his hand, he batted the visor from Richie’s uniform right off his mophead, taking custody of it as he started pushing them toward the pickup. The appointment wasn't for another forty-five minutes, but knowing campus driving regulations, and Richie's own skill behind the wheel, this would take a while.

"Aw, Eds, don't you like a boy in uniform?" Richie demanded in mock offense, clasping his hands against his chest. “You ought to, I ain’t working minimum wage ‘cause I’m a masochist. Well, only for you babe, but still.”

They finally bustled inside, buckled up and warm against the autumn chill, the alpha reached to clasp Eddie’s hand, nimble fingers squeezing before shifting into gear. For a couple of high school graduates dumb enough to get pregnant weeks before college, Eddie dared to think they were doing pretty good right now. Sure, plans for after the semester were slow going and half-baked at best, but they had managed a lot on their own so far, with minimal nervous breakdowns. Although, Eddie couldn't really speak for Richie on that front, but he was pretty sure he was the only one having them anyway.   
  
All that, and his smile came easily and fondly as Richie took them off campus. This all might be perfect, if it were under completely different circumstances.   
  
With all personal preferences cast aside and stomped on in the wake of a very opinionated fetus, Eddie turned down restaurant after restaurant, sometimes just at the sight of the logo. After some whining from Richie and the realization that they had only so much time before they needed to be at the clinic, he finally wound up with some bland Burger King nuggets in his lap, half-eaten, munching on fries. Eddie couldn't remember if he wasn't supposed to eat anything for this appointment, but given how little he had actually consumed, it probably wouldn't matter.   


They finally arrived after all that fluff, and the omega turned to find his boyfriend launching himself out of the cab, cheeseburger still clasped in one hand. “You check in, I have to pee.”

He had the decency to give Eddie a hand out of the cab, at least, that he didn't really need before taking off, leaving the omega to march toward the sliding glass doors alone, trying to look more confident than he really felt. 

He signed in with the front desk and was already sitting down by the time Richie returned from wherever he had run off to. Eddie sat with his arms crossed over his (barely showing) front, and pretending he was just as invested in the cooking show on the tiny mounted TV as all the other parents-to-be.

As had become standard, it took only a moment for the nurse to come pester Eddie for a cup full of pee before they were left to languish for far past the reasonable delay of their scheduled appointment time - at least by a bored trashmouth’s standards, when it took only took about fifteen minutes for Richie to start sliding all over the place in his seat, groaning, flipping magazine pages noisily. This place should have come equipped with a children’s area.

"Edward Kaspbrak," eventually drew them toward the back half of the clinic. Eddie didn't think he'd ever been more relieved to have to weigh himself, if it meant ending Richie's dramatics.

Weighing himself wasn't quite as fun when he saw the number, though, sighing and lusting after his summer body, wishing he'd worn more of those fitted polos he liked, and less baggy graphic T-shirts. 

Richie took a turn standing on the scale before they were gestured into an examination room by a chubby blond in green scrubs. The beige walls did nothing to take away from the gray exam table with its fold out foot pedals and tissue paper sheet. Even a little bit of wallpaper would have been nice.

Eddie hopped up on the exam table with a tiny, tiny bit more effort than last time, scooting to crinkle the paper under his butt, like he had always done, even with his mom, until she swatted him for being fidgety anyway. Soon green-scrubs was grilling him about how he had been treating his body, and therefore the Death Star Plans, in the last few weeks. Confessing that college sleeping habits and eating habits were sort of taking precedent over health and well-being wasn't the most fun thing to do, especially when the nurse tutted at him like a child (which he wasn’t, he’d had the eighteenth birthday to prove it). Eddie could understand the importance, but it wasn't his fault his professors each assigned six hours of work a week. Further evidence that maybe higher education just wasn't for him. And honestly, thank god.

Green-scrubs left eventually, with promises that the doctor would be in shortly. Alone with Richie, who had been banished to the chair beside the exam table, Eddie tried to breathe out all his jitters in one big cleansing breath.

"Did you get fatter? I think I got fatter," Richie mentioned idly, clicking the light on the otoscope from the wall on and off. Eddie made the mistake of looking over at that moment, getting an eye full of bright white light. 

"Jesus!" Swiping blindly, he managed to yank the thing out of Richie's hand, and set it back in its hook. At least it wasn't the waiting room moaning. He’d take anything over that.   


"Look, we're young, so they hate us as is," Eddie said under his breath, tilted toward Richie. "Which I don't mind, people just fucking hate us. But if you break something here, I'm gonna break you back."

It didn't take much time for a lecherous grin to curl the corners of Richie’s, leaning in a little closer and tipping his head to align them at an inviting angle - though the exam table put Eddie a few inches up, for once.

"Promise?" the alpha murmured in return, one brow quirking as his eyes flashed open before softening into a more sultry eyelash-batting look. As if Eddie should have expected anything different.

Before he could decide whether to clock Richie or kiss him, the door clicked open, and the omega dropped back before they could be interrogated about the looks on their faces.    
  
"How's it going today?" the doctor asked, pleasantly enough. 

Eddie answered with monosyllabic confirmation, as was the norm in anything. No one really wanted to hear how bad your day was going. Well, maybe an OBGYN, but only if it had something to do with the bun in the oven.

"Go ahead and lay back, and pull your shirt up. Pants might have to come down a bit too. Need to see the whole belly." The doctor pulled paper towels one by one from a dispenser above the sink in the corner and brought them to Eddie, showing him how to tuck them into his waistband. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to strip at all, or a least, hadn’t put together that he would have to at the same time Richie was in the room. All he could do was hope the difference in his own weight wasn't quite as noticeable as his mind made it out to be, or that Richie was too dumb to notice anyway. It was only a couple months in after all, Eddie reminded himself, staring at the florescent lights in the ceiling as he rolled up his sweatshirt.   
  
When Richie leaned over to grab his hand, though, he wondered if his nerves were showing even more than his stomach.

The doctor got to work uncapping a bottle of lube, and smeared a liberal amount onto a paper towel before picking up a gray and white calculator thing from the counter. Turned out, the toy microphone next to it was actually attached, and the doctor ran it through the goo like it was nothing. There wasn't anything more to be worried about, with his pants down and shirt rucked up already, until the cold lube touched Eddie’s skin. 

He hissed a little, grimacing as the doctor dragged the wand across his stomach with surprising force, and surprising noise. If Eddie were Richie, he would have said something like, "None of that self warming stuff, huh?" But he wasn't Richie, so all he could do was lie there trying to breathe, scanning the room for something to focus on that wasn't a face.   


"Easy, doc," Richie mumbled, instead of anything Eddie could have ever expected, as the doctor pushed the wand with all the alacrity of a mother vacuuming Cheerios. The static and crackling changed a bit, but stayed irregular and loud, echoing through the cheap speaker and filling the room.    
  
"The uterus is under several layers of skin, muscle, and fat," the doctor explained evenly. "Sorry if it's a little hard, but it does make for a better sound." As if to prove a point, the crackling wavered for a moment, fading in and out before settling on a staccato noise - distinctly different. Like a washing machine with an uneven load, except it was going really fast, and banging against the door. Maybe someone put a basketball in there, Eddie didn't fucking know the parameters of his own simile.   
  
"There," the doctor murmured before falling silent. The only sound in the room for a long time was the staticky thumping.

More specifically, the heartbeat of his unborn baby.

"That's it?" Eddie asked, chin prodding against the bunched up folds of his sweatshirt as he looked at the doctor. Not quite disbelieving or confused, though he wasn't sure it sounded like he thought a fetus heartbeat would sound. Maybe just that he was surprised it was doing something besides making him nauseous all the time.

"That's it," the doctor echoed in confirmation, holding the wand just so while his eyes darted up to the clock on the wall. A few moments later, he tacked on: "One fifty eight, that's pretty good." Like it was nothing. 

As if he expected to see any evidence of life when he looked down, Eddie stared at the slight curve of his belly, pushed by the wand attached to the doctors hand as he honed in on the heartbeat. Suddenly the sound started to fade away, and the doctor moved to follow it, zeroing in for another few seconds before it disappeared again.  
  
"Oop, little shy," he remarked, sweeping slowly back and forth again for any last hints.    
  
"You sure it's mine?" Richie whispered. Eddie pinned him with a withering glare, but the alpha grinned impishly, his thumb rubbing along the omega's hand affectionately while the doctor finally gave up and lifted the wand away.    
  
"That's not bad for eleven weeks," he mentioned, wiping the device clean before handing Eddie some fresh paper towels as well. "You're ten and, five days? Right on track. And it looks like size was good at nine. We'll get a more accurate measurement later on. There's going to be a lot of growth over the next month or so. Are you keeping fluids down?" 

"Mostly," Eddie answered diligently (living off Gatorade and hot tea these days), as he buttoned his fly and straightened his shirt. Just when he was fully dressed and  _ comfortable  _ again, Richie’s hand darted out, fingers splayed just enough to poke Eddie in the belly

"Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope," he whispered, eyes wide.

Eddie whipped to smack him away, an instinct he was almost surprised he had, though glad for. But Richie had already retreated. While the doctor went on about medication and what to expect in the weeks to come, he angled his arm in front of his stomach, to prevent any further touching.

"Well, I think that went well," Eddie said confidently, stuffing a prescription into his pocket when they finally came out to the parking lot. Now they had the whole rest of the day to themselves - since he sure wasn’t going to his last class of the day. "Except for you being a turd, anyway, but that's normal protocol, I guess."  
  
"I thought I was very well behaved," Richie countered in a haughty tone, his nose turned up as he marched to the truck, an affronted hand pressed to his sternum. His other arm slung around Eddie's shoulders,, the omega as passively resigned as a rag doll. “So far so good though, right? Turns out you’re a pretty good oven!”

He didn’t let go until they reached the truck so Eddie could climb into the passenger's seat (a little harder to get in than to vacate, if he was being entirely honest) and it wasn't long before they were all buckled in and backing out.

"I don't work until one tomorrow," Richie mentioned, as they navigated back to campus. "You know what that means, don’tcha Eds?" he prodded, grinning impishly, and leaning until his elbow was on the bench. 

The omega knew exactly what his boyfriend was getting at, drawing out the words, tipping his face to sicc those big dark eyes on poor Eddie Kaspbrak. As if he didn't think of it every time Richie visited, whether they were able or not.   
  
"There's time to cuddle," Richie finally murmured conspiratorially. "Oh, my gosh, we could even...Fuck!" Gasping, he lifted a hand to cover his mouth in shock.

Against all odds (the ones he held himself to, anyway), Eddie snorted and smiled, but managed to school himself in time to push Richie upright. "Watch the road, you dumbass. We're carrying precious cargo." Whether he meant himself or his own very specific cargo, that was up in the air, in need of no real answer.   
  
After parking in the student lot, Eddie swiped his key card to get them in his building, shuffling on up to the third floor with minimal obligation to greet his dormmates along the way. The red name tag on his door was already fading because of the cheap ass construction paper it was made from, but Eddie didn't like anyone on his floor who didn't know his name already, so it didn't matter. Plus, it wasn’t like he didn’t know which room was his.   
  
"Make yourself comfortable," he instructed, offering up the minimal, but livable, space. The kids upstairs had a penchant for giving him shit when he had his boyfriend over whether he made noise or not (just jealous, Eddie had decided), so he kicked on the stereo on his desk, figuring that accomplished one problem or another. If they preferred sex over Bowie, there was nothing Eddie could do about it.

As soon as the door closed, Richie kicked out of his shoes, and dipped out of the omega’s line of sight by the time they hit the floor. By "comfortable", Eddie had meant chilling, relaxing, sitting for a bit while he got his own self comfortable. 

But when he turned to put his sneakers in his shoe organizer, he found that Richie had taken the offer to heart, now splayed across the mattress in all his pale, freckled, six-foot-plus glory. An undershirt and pair of boxers kept Eddie from seeing anything more indecent, but it was a whole new level of Richie (and speed for that matter) and he rolled his eyes.    
  
The alpha huffed out deep breaths - like he had been running a marathon a moment ago and not just tromping up the stairs. All he’d had to do today was sit on his ass (and, well, whatever slave labor Kinko’s had put him up to that morning). A hand lifted toward Eddie, fingers closed and opened in clear gesture of demand while Richie lie there useless.

The omega considered changing into pajama pants, but he didn't think he could make it as long as that would take. More importantly, he didn't think Richie could either. 

Coming forward just as he was, jeans and all, Eddie lifted his hand, threading his own fingers around Richie's, basking in the subtle differences for a moment. Not for very long though, before he craned low for a soft, if thorough kiss. It reminded him of Sleeping Beauty - despite the fact that Richie wasn't exactly sleeping then. Whether he was a beauty or not was up for debate.   
  
Eddie indulged the languid kiss for a generous moment, open-mouthed and tender, one hand curled over the dip where Richie's shoulder met his throat. He still smelled so good, but always masked by something. This time it was printer paper, and over it, whatever was clinging to him from the clinic.   
  
Still standing, Eddie tipped his mouth away so their foreheads lined up, smooth and gentle. "The semester ends on the sixteenth of December," he murmured, logistics occurring to him now, that would evade him if he tried to bring it up post-coitus, or post whatever was gonna happen. "My mom's coming to get me the next morning. I wanted to let you know, since - well - I know now. We have to get going on things.”

"Sixteenth is like half way through the month," Richie mentioned, faster on the uptake than Eddie thought he would be. And responsive too.  "We should be able to take your shit to the new place on the first, there's no point letting Sonia bring it all the way home. Shit, that might make it harder to get away." 

"We can't just move all my stuff before she gets here, Richie," Eddie scolded lightly, deadpan while his boyfriend slid his arms around his waist, nearly upsetting his balance. "If I'm here and all my stuff isn't, she's gonna notice." 

For a split second, he fiddled with the idea of dummy cardboard boxes full of rocks - but if his mom opened even one of them, he was dead. Like, literally dead. Eddie was dumb, but not dumb enough to be having shitty ideas like that. That was Richie's job.   
  
When his back began to protest against the angle of his body, Eddie shifted closer to the bed, knee lifting up and over to straddle Richie without losing anything either of them might be holding on to. Richie stared at him, bug-eyed behind his glasses. Distracting as this may be, for both of them, there wasn't much space in the omega's tiny bed that hadn't been taken up by all Richie's lank. They had to make do somewhere.   
  
Huffing impatiently, Eddie tipped his head back for a moment, thinking about a conclusion he had already sort of reached. "I probably just have to live with the fact that I don't get to bring all my stuff to our new place." Dipping his head again, he looked at Richie, wondering just how much brain power he had devoted to this plan. How often he thought about it, like Eddie did.

And hell, Eddie thought about it night and day.   
  
"I just have to move back, fill up as much bags as we can carry from my bedroom window, and plan an escape. Maybe, if we’re lucky, my mom will go to the store one day and we can use the front door. That would be heaven, honestly, because I'm a little terrified of whether or not I'll be able to climb down that tree in two months. I mean if I'm immobile and the size of a whale, it's not gonna be pretty.”

"Could build a pulley system," Richie offered absently.

“Also don’t freak out or anything,” Eddie blurted, without much thought or care as to what Richie had said, “but I've been thinking about something else that should maybe happen."   
  
This was the part where Eddie had to try to look very serious, somehow, bent across Richie's lap with his whole almost-naked body spread out under him.    
  
"I think, maybe it might be a whole lot easier on us if, after the semester, we bonded," he explained softly, eyes drifting toward the window when they couldn’t handle the weight of his own words.

He knew he couldn't expect Richie to be responsive to everything that came with this process -  indicative by the silence that followed his statement - and this very important, very serious suggestion was no different. And it was unfair how serious it had to be, really. Other couples got to take their time getting to it, and love every minute of it, and never regret a moment leading up to or after it. As amazing as they were handling everything, Eddie didn't get to have that. Nothing ever got to be  _ normal  _ for him.

Finally, Richie managed something that sounded like a grunt, lips twisting in a grimace. “Just ‘cause you’re pregnant?”

Such a response was sort of expected, even if Eddie conjured up all the better and worse possible ones in his mind in the interim. He couldn't blame Richie for not jumping to say yes to a very adult decision, when they had been living with the ramifications of a hasty adult decision for the last few months now.   
  
"Well, yeah," the omega admitted, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth to gnaw, that damn bad habit. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't have wanted to originally. Just, you know, maybe in a couple years instead of a couple months. But now it's a couple months. It just prompted me to ask, you know? If I didn't think I could, or didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you, I wouldn't be bringing it up."   
  
Doing this on top of Richie was more difficult than he thought, and the omega found himself shifting off skinny legs, just to sit beside them, kneeling with one leg almost hanging off the bed. Before he could feel too much like a teenager whose promposal had been rejected, Eddie's mind swam with qualifiers and concessions, his mouth almost too fast to keep up with them. 

"If you don't want to I totally get it, though. It's a big deal, like, a fucking enormous deal. I just thought I'd ask."

"I do want to," Richie argued promptly, surprising Eddie with speed alone. He sat up and wrapped his arms around the omega, dragging him backward until they were technically cuddling - Eddie cinched against his chest. He tried not to pout petulantly, even as he searched for any note of appeasement in the alpha’s actions, arms shifting over his chest when the opportunity to touch was too much to ignore now.  
  
"I've always wanted to, Eds," Richie whispered, like a secret. "Or at least, you know, for a really long time. Can't imagine anyone but you. I just…”

Eddie tried to picture Richie Tozier in every state of always, as if that idea was more ridiculous than wanting to bond at all. Small and gangly in all his buck-toothed glory, before he hit that magnificent growth spurt. Wanting to give little asthmatic Eddie Kaspbrak a bond bite and be with him, together forever? Did they even know how things worked like that back then?   
  
If only from personal experience, Eddie decided he could believe that after all, brushing his fingers along the knit lines in Richie's undershirt. In every capacity, maybe not, but puberty and sex ed worked wonders on a crush.   
  
"I want to," Richie said again, cinching his arms tighter. "I would no matter what."

"Okay," Eddie murmured - wondering if this was how it felt to be profoundly sure of a course of action. It felt rather subtle, given the circumstances.   
  
"Not until after we move, though," he added, before he could get swallowed up tricking himself into believing things that weren't true. "There's just other stuff to worry about first. But once we're settled, nothing's stopping us."

“Alright.”   
  
Feeling like that was enough grown up talk for now, Eddie pushed himself up Richie's torso, almost slipping away from his grip. But it was worth it to press their mouths together again, bodies flush and close and warm, just as he liked them.

"Oooh," Richie murmured happily, their lips brushing together while each of them breathed, grinning against Eddie. They sank together, breath coming a little harder. His hands slid up and down Eddie’s back, fingers cupping around his ass like they hadn’t just been discussing such heavy topics.    
  
"What are you still doing in clothes?" Richie demanded a little impatiently. Tipping his head to the side, he nipped and nibbled at the line of Eddie's jaw, eliciting gasps that the omega was just a little too overwhelmed to silence.

So caught up in Richie, his lips, his hands, his body, the way he tasted, Eddie almost forgot he was completely dressed at all. For someone who hadn't been fucked in a couple weeks, it was pretty clear that if he wanted to end that streak, then something was going to have to come off. 

Which had been an easy thing to think about an hour ago, and all this week. But now, pressed into Richie from knees to chest, with a few layers of clothes between him and a round belly, it sounded way harder than it actually was.   
  
Which wasn't even fair! Eddie was barely showing, and he knew it was only going to get worse from there, as the months dragged on. A string of thoughts easy enough to wrap his head around, but just unable to convince him for some reason - probably because the dumb fetus already had him whipped, to some extent.   
  
Instead of anything remotely helpful (though he could be helpful other ways) Eddie ignored Richie’s insistence. Thinking fast, he lifted up on his knees and sank back - unfortunately out of the line of fire of Richie's mouth, but what could you do?   
  
"Bet I can guess what you want," Eddie murmured, basking in the prolonged eye contact his boyfriend offered as he eased himself toward the end of his bed. Pushing Richie's undershirt high up his chest, the omega dipped low enough to lave against the soft, slim stomach, hands palming and gliding until he got his fingers on the tent in cotton boxers - a clear display of his intentions.

"At any moment, this is accurate. Easy bet. What am I gonna say, no? I'm cute not stupid. Fuck." Head dropping back, Richie scraped his fingers through his hair before lifting himself up again to watch.    


Eddie was helpless to prevent the stretch of his own lips against Richie's navel, smiling enough that he let himself linger there before he was sure he could look up at the alpha with an almost straight face again. Richie and his dumb mouth could make these things so difficult sometimes, if only because Eddie's knee jerk reaction to everything was to be stubborn. In half-baked retaliation, he blew a raspberry against his boyfriend's hip before shifting lower.

If he had any hope of doing this without falling off, Eddie decided he was best suited with one of his legs off the bed, sliding until his heel made contact with the rug and he could prop himself up better. That out of the way, Eddie tugged at the waistband of Richie’s underwear a few teasingly ignorant times, before finally pulling hard enough to get everything out, Richie already stiff as his cock bobbed out.

Eddie pressed a wet kiss to the bulbed head, almost solely for Richie to see. You'd think (or at least Eddie did) that he wouldn't be on very good terms with alpha dick, especially this alpha's dick, after he'd gotten fucked by one hard enough to put a fetus in him. Maybe he was just resilient, or being away at college had him jonesing so fucking often, but the opposite was true really. Evident more than anything when he sucked a stripe up the taut underside, tongue and all, before closing his mouth sparingly over the tip.

"Tease," Richie whispered breathlessly, almost accusatory, while his knee cocked up with a huffed gasp.

Eyes flicking up to the antsy alpha, Eddie made sure to take his sweet time sliding up the head and dislodging his mouth with a soft pop. In direct evidence of the accusation, he knew. That's why he did it, and to be quite fucking fair Richie was a bigger tease than he'd ever be.   
  
"It's been a while, Richie, if I go too fast I think you might not last very long," Eddie said innocently, smirking. Even then, he couldn't quite keep up the act enough to follow through, wrapping his hand around the thick base a second later, rounding his mouth to sink down the hot shaft a couple inches. What could he say, he was horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt end to the smut! You can look forward to some full-fledged stuff later on though.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read the fic this is sort of partially based on, the "conception" I guess would have taken place in Richie's truck after they go to the supermarket, just instead of rimming and frottage they would have actually had sex lol. It's not necessary to read that fic before this one, but I thought I'd mention.
> 
> Also we figured out that the reason Eddie got pregnant outside of his head is because he had sex with Richie a little close to his heat. His body was a little too close to the actual process and Richie didn't pull out so - there you go lol. He was probably due for a heat at the beginning of August but he took suppressants for it.


End file.
